Reflections
by LiberiFatali-19
Summary: Staring into the reflection Riddick tries to find the humanity he's lost, Jack tries to see who she is, and a woman tries to remember the eyes that look back at her. RiddickFry... Eventually.
1. Foreword

Foreword:

Just letting you all know that this is my second attempt at my stroy 'Reflections'. When I read back over past chapter I cringed at how choppy and flawed they were and wanted to improve on it. Give it more flow and build up the story further, because at the moment I was stuck for where to go after chapter 12.

So keep a look out as new chapters will be added to fill the story out. I will have some notation to let people know if it's new so don't worry!

Thank you for your patience and loyalty!!

XOXOX

PS. if anyone is after the unedited chapter 13, let me know. 


	2. Chapter 1 Fractured Memories

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black or the Chronicles of Riddick which are the creative and legal property of David Twohy. Any constructive criticism is welcome._

_And here we go again. Thank you to those of you that have stuck with me through, I appreciate it beyond belief!!!_

_._

_Reflections_

_Chapter One - Fractured Memories_

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_Searing pain blinded him; bright spots distorting his vision as it shot its way up Riddick's thigh where that damned winged beast's talons had sank into his flesh. '_Breathe, just breathe._' He reminded himself. '_Now stand up, come on you've survived worse than this, this can't beat you, don't let it._'_

_A foreign voice slowly drowned out the one in his head. It was coming closer, the sound louder as the seconds passed. Soft cool hands touched the skin of his overheated body, reaching out, pulling, helping him to stand. _

"_Okay, hold on to me, hold on to me." The voice urged while the hands pulled at him. "Okay, I gotcha. Come on."_

_Carolyn. She had come back for him. Pain wrenched at his heart. She always comes back. _

"_Come on Riddick, get up, get up. GET UP! I said I'd die for them not you, lets move. I know you can, come on, alright…"_

_Stumbling, always stumbling, why can we never stop? He grunted as her body is forced into his, gasping. He could taste the blood, her blood, even in the rain._

_She smiled, always smiled, that same damn smile. Maybe it's because of the irony of the situation; it was hard to see what she found so amusing when guilt ate at him. First a slight pull, testing, and she's ripped away with back-breaking force out of his arms. Why can he never hold on? _

_A brief feeling of vertigo washes over him, as the ground rushes to meet him. He doesn't feel the fall, but knows that he has, as he always does. Lying on the ground in the rain and the mud, He tries to push himself up to stand, but he never gets there._

"_Not for me. Not For ME!" Always… it's always for me._

Riddick gasped as he sat up in bed, shiv in hand and muscles coiled, ready to strike at the potential threat. But there's nothing… nothing's ever there. He's all alone in his damned room on that damned Necromunger ship.

_Five years, been five years since it happened._

Five years. For five years he'd been having this dream. For five years he had been reliving the nightmare in the few hours he happened to find sleep. The dreams had stopped for about a week or so, and then changed. Instead what he saw when he closed his eyes was the kid; Jack or Kira as she going by nowadays, stepped into HIS fight taking a strike at that Lord Marshall and that Necromunger fuck always sends her flying into the pillar, the ornamental spike slicing through her back.

Slowly her broken body fell, landing in a heap on the floor. When he reached her side he was hesitant to touch her broken form, for fear of causing more damage. When he gently rolled her over the face he expected to see changed… Instead of long brown hair, there was short blonde; and deep brown eyes became piercing blue, bringing with the memory of the only other woman he gave a damn about. Those eyes, that face…She just stared up at him with that same damned smile that haunted his memories.

With his new claim over the Necromunger race, the physicians had done everything they could to ensure Jack's survival. When she'd been given the all clear his dreams… nightmares returned bringing with them a whole new level of anguish.

Taking a deep shuddering breathe to return his heartbeat to normal, Riddick turned to put the shiv back in a compartment in the headboard behind his pillow. Twisting again, he swung his legs off the side of the bed and pushed himself up to stand. Staggering toward the window he looked out at the Necromunger city, Necropolis outlined in the early morning glow.

'_Bet none of those Necro's would've ever thought that they'd be ruled over by some Furian.'_ He laughed bitterly out at the hovering city._ 'You gotta laugh; didn't even know what the fuck a Furian was, let alone that I was one until a couple of weeks ago. It's fucked up how things turn out.' _

Turning away from the window Riddick slumped toward the bathroom, weariness radiating from his long exhausted body. Reaching into the shower he turned on the water. As he straightened, he caught his reflection in the corner of his eye. Staring harshly at the face that peered back he asked the same question he'd asked for the last five years. Every morning he would ask himself again, _'What would anybody see in me that'd be worth saving? Worth… dying for? All I see is an animal that's lost whatever chance he had to rejoin humanity. Humph! Never wanted ta be human anyway._'

With a derogatory snort he turned away from the mirror, restraining the urge to punch it to fight the desperate tormenting thoughts that curled at the corners of his mind telling him how much he wanted to be… _more _than just an animal. Sighing deeply he stepped under the harsh barrage of hot water. Closing his eyes he drops his head and rested it against the cool tiles of the wall. _Whatever chance he had to be more died with her….so why the hell did he keep on livin'?_

* * *

.

Palms plastered flat against the tiles, she pushed off the wall with a sigh and continued with the rest of her shower. Hand reaching blindly she snagged the sponge from the hook as she twisted to grab the soap from its holder. _'Whoever designed this bathroom didn't do it with functionality in mind.'_ She thought with a disbelieving shake of her head.

Rubbing vigorously she moved down her body and up the back of her legs, slowing her movements down as she reached the sensitive tissue of her back. Sadness and pain filled her blue eyes as she lightly fingered the damaged skin as she grasped at her memories, trying desperately to remember… anything. '_Why? Why can't I remember? How am I supposed to live like this? With no idea about who I am… my past, family… anything.' _She shook her head as if to clear it from her mind, quickly finishing her shower.

She turned off the water and stepped out into the steam filled room. A little groping and she grabbed her towel to dry herself off. Between wisps of mist her reflection flickered back at her in the mirror. Twisting away from it, she tried to snake her head around to get a good look at her back.

"A few more treatments, that's all. And it'll all be as good as before… before what?' she snorted, agitation growing, 'before I woke up in hospital, strapped down unable to move for fear I'd tear the delicately, repairing skin on my back; my back that was torn beyond normal medical repair? Before I was found on some derelict planet? Before I was… The before I can't remember." despair filled her as once again her memories failed.

So far the experimental treatment with the nanotechnology had been working remarkably well. The once unrecognisable mess of ropy contractions, now soft and supple, only faint scarring lingered and soon enough they too would be gone. They were no side effects as such, nothing permanent, but for a few days the newly repaired skin itched like crazy.

Looking at her face for a moment, she took in the dark coloured half-circle under her eyes; her shoulders rose and fell with the indignant snort. _'I cried for three days straight, even in my sleep.'_

Turning around to face the mirror head on, she stared at her face reflected back at her; the smudges under her eyes, the drawn pallidness of her complexion. Eyes drifting down, a hand lifted to run along the skin of her upper chest feeling the bones protruding slightly.

Her head fell and she worried her lip in thought, _'No matter how hard I've tried or who I've talked to, I can't remember. I can't remember anything. What had happened to me? They keep asking how I got to that planet where I was found, was anyone with me and did they survive? But most importantly what caused the scaring on my back?'_ Her brows drew together in frustrated confusion; she lifted her hand from her chest as hot tears slid down her face and shoved her hand against her reflection, trying to hurt it for the pain she felt, the glass fracturing under her palm._ 'I remember nothing, not even my own name.'_


	3. Chapter 2 Echoes of the Past

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black or the Chronicles of Riddick which are the creative and legal property of David Twohy. Any constructive criticism is welcome._

_._

_Reflections_

_Chapter Two - Echoes of the Past_

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The flaxen haired woman pulled her hand from the mirror, brows knitting together in annoyance. A shard of glass glinted in the early morning light as blood started to blossom in her palm.

"Damn." The harsh whisper breaking the silence of the bathroom, bringing her hand to her mouth she sucked the glass out, spitting it into the sink. She watched as the blood began to pool in the small cut, slowly flooding across her hand. A lump caught in her throat as a sick feeling made her stomach churn. The edges of her vision started to blur, her head light. A piercing scream made her ears ache. Blood, too much blood. Red soaked into her vision and it was all she could see…

A shiver trickled down her spine as the cool air blew through the open window, cooling the droplets on her skin. Wiping her hand hurriedly on her towel, she snatched a bandaid from the broken cabinet and awkwardly applied the adhesive gauze, the smeared blood stopping it from sticking properly. She wrapped the towel quickly around her to fight off the cold and scurried out into the warmth of her bedroom.

The living quarters she had been assigned when she was released from the hospital were modest, but big enough that she had enough space to move and spread out. With as little as she had, she had never really settled in. The bareness of it, lack of things… no history. It made it hard for her feel like it was her home. In three easy steps and she was in front of the two drawers where her clothes were kept. She let go of the towel with a sickly shiver; the damp material falling heavily around her feet, and slid on her underwear. Hand on the knob she pulled open the other drawer and retrieved a pair of beige cotton slacks and a loose pale pink shirt.

After dressing, she sauntered slowly passed her window, pausing briefly to look out at the early morning sky as she made her way back to the bathroom, in search of her hair brush. Pulling the bristles through wavy blonde hair, she looked in the mirror to check her appearance.

Her eyes gradually made their way to her face. "Who are you?" she asked herself as she searched deep blue eyes that were underlined with dark smudges. This morning, like all the rest, her reflection gazed silently back. Eyes focusing on the broken glass, she sighed. '_Another mirror to be fixed and another 7 years back luck.'_

Giving an indignant snort, she automatically returned her brush to the shelf where she always kept it and ran her fingers along the dark circles under her eyes. "Well," she muttered. "At least if you're keeping secrets, you can't be telling me lies."

She let her hand drop from her face and turned to locate a hair-tie. Grabbing it, she pulled the elastic around her fingers, and effortlessly gathered her shoulder-length hair and forced the band around the thick tress into a messy bun. Finished she refocused on her reflection once again examining the lines of her tired face.

"This is as good as it's going to get." Squaring her shoulders, she dared, or was it hoped her mirror would tell her otherwise. She stood for a moment yearning for answers. When she received no response from the woman looking back at her, she sighed, and walked out of the room, turning off the light on her way out the door.

As the light disappeared, she blinked to refocus her eyes in the grey of early morning. She stilled suddenly, standing frozen in the middle of the room. For a split second she saw a brief flash of a dark shape behind her eyelids and an ear-piecing screech that sent shivers down her spine. Gasping as her eyes flickered open, she quickly closed them to try and draw the image back to the forefront of her mind.

She frowned in concentration and blocked out the noise as she tried to distinguish the shape. All she could make out was a faint outline of a person. Everything about him was a blur except the eyes. Oh the eyes! They made her gasp as breath caught in her throat and her heart stopped. She saw piercing silver eyes which seemed to be looking into hers. They were asking, begging her to remember. To remember who they belonged to. They were the only distinctive feature that she could make out of the person's face.

She blinked to rid herself of the coloured circles obstructing her vision and the silver eyes that seemed to loom transparently in front of her. Hesitantly she extended her arm to swat at the hallucination to clear it from her head.

She drew her arm back quickly as if burnt and side-stepped from the bedroom into the living room. Picking up her pace she ran to the door. She quickly snatched her bag and keys from the hooks by the door and swung it open with such force she practically fell out into the hall. In one decisive move she slammed the door closed and locked it. Unable to take her eyes off the portal, she inched away until her back hit the wall with a small thump. Sighing in relief she slumped against it. "Okay, okay, you're all right. Breathe, remember to breathe." Taking a deep breath she held it in, and then slowly exhaled keeping her lips pursed. "Just, calm down."

* * *

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"Hey Jack, how you feelin'?" Riddick asked as he walked in the door.

She looked up suddenly at the sound of the intruder, and stared at him in shock. When her brain registered who it was, she started yelling. "Don't call me Jack, it's not my name!"

Adjusting his muscular shoulders he leant on the doorframe with an air of indifference. "Well that's just too bad kid, because I ain't callin' you anythin' else."

"Oh piss off would ya! Just let me die in peace, it's not like you care." Her rant turned to a whisper. "If you…you wouldn't have…."

Riddick pushed himself out of the doorway, and trundled further into the room, arms crossed over his broad chest. "I wouldn't of what? What wouldn't I have done Jack? You'd better not be talkin' about that shit again, 'bout me leavin' you! I don't want to hear it."

"Well what if I am. You don't care, you don't care! You never fucking cared! If you cared, you wouldn't have left. You wouldn't have left me with Imam, alone! I didn't want to be there. I wanted to be with YOU!" Drawing back a little, she whispered, "I… I wanted… to… to stay with you."

"Jack…" He sighed as his anger turned to weariness and he shuffled tiredly towards her bed

"No, no. Don't call me that, don't call me that, it's not my name. Jack's gone, Jack's dead, Jack's…" She yelled. Her voice cracked, as she started sobbing; great heaving sobs that racked her body.

Striding over to the bed Riddick pulled her forcefully into his chest. She held still, her tears wetting his shirt. Taking a deep breath, he could feel her tightening her muscles ready for an attack. Shoving her hands against his chest as hard as she could, she pushed back on his arms, but he held on, he had to hold on.

Thumping his chest she started screaming; "Let go, let go! Get off, get the fuck off me! I don't want it, I don't want it. I hate you, I HATE Jack. Jack's gone…" Finally, exhausted, her movements slowed and her efforts diminished. "… Jack's weak… she's weak…weak." A big deep breath and her movement stop, as she slumped into his chest. "I'm not… I don't wanna… I don't wanna be weak, Jack's weak."

The doctor stood in the threshold of the door, tranquiliser in hand. Riddick turned his head to glare, silently telling him to leave it alone, to stay out of it. Pulling her in a bit tighter he started to rock unconsciously, instinctively trying to calm her down.

In a low voice Riddick shushed her, and tried to get her to understand. "Jack… Jack, she was never weak. Even in her fear, she stayed strong. Even knowing it was more than likely she'd die, she stayed strong. You're not weak. Kyra's weak, runnin' away from herself, fightin' who she is. You, you're better than that Jackie."

She took heaving breaths to calm her sobs, as anger seeped out of her body. Sliding his hands over her back to her arms, he could feel the slight scaring that was still there. The Necro doctor said it'd be a few more days before it was gone. Riddick knew there wouldn't be a trace left of what had happened, at least not physically anyway, but mentally, that was another story. His dreams were a testament to that.

Gently, Riddick pushed her toward the mattress to lay her body down, but her nails dug into his shoulders, trying to stop him from leaving her. "Shhh… it's okay kid, just go to sleep. I'll come back. I won't leave you alone, alright now go to sleep, you'll be fine."

Laying her down, he straightened and took a few steps backwards, turning he edged his way to the door. The doctor advanced toward the bed ready to inject Jack with the tranquiliser. With a slight gestured to a second doctor to come in and help hold her down. Letting out an enraged grunt she struggled with them, feebly. Having sedated her, they stood on either side of the bed and rolled Jack's limp body onto her stomach. Twisting his head to give her one more look, Riddick walked out the door.


	4. Chapter 3 Flawless Perfection

*****NEW*****

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black or the Chronicles of Riddick which are the creative and legal property of David Twohy. Any constructive criticism is welcome._

_New chapter, hope you enjoy it!_

_._

_Reflections_

_Chapter Three - Flawless Perfection_

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Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the antechamber as Vaako stomped his way through the Necromunger ship, casting a glare at anyone who dared look in his direction. Back perfectly ridged, he came to a halt at the entrance of his chamber. He inhaled deeply through his nose, the muscles in his neck tightening as he raised his head higher and marched through his quarters towards his wife, stopping within a few paces of her chair.

"Dame Vaako." he inclined his head in greeting, his powerful voice resounded through their sparse chamber.

A delicate hand lifted the smouldering coal pencil to the bottom lid of her eye. With a well-practised skill, she drew the hot coal across her skin, thickening the already solid black line under her eyes. Finished, she drew it away from her face, placing in softly down on the table before flicking her eyes to catch her husband's reflected in her mirror.

"Husband, how was your mission? You were victorious." She asked, but it was no question. Their race had power over all and with Vaako leading them, they would never be defeated.

"As always. The soldiers of that worthless planet proved no concern to our forces."

"I must say I am disappointed." Hands in her lap, she smoothed the skirt of her dress as she stood to face him.

He drew to his full height, a questioning glare settling over his features. "And why, my lady, might that be? We were victorious."

"Because dear husband, that _Furyan_ has taken your rightful position as Lord Marshal and you did nothing to stop him. You practically let him take it." She fumed as she strode across the room him. "He could end us. He could bring an end to the Necromunger way." Opening the door to their wardrobe she pulled out another dress. "He resisted all attempts made to convert him to our way. He has the power to destroy everything due to your slip. If you had killed the Lord Marshal as we had planned… None of this would have happened."

Neatly clipped nails pierced the inside of the thick leather of his gloves as he craned his neck to follow her retreating back, resisting the temptation to raise his hand to her. "_It was not_ my intention for the Furyan to _take_ what was to be mine. But things can be rectified."

Garment held to her front, she twisted to look at the perfectly controlled anger of Vaako. How far could she push before it snapped? "As I should think. Our plan was flawless. It was to be our greatest victory; I was to have power above all."

Control waning he was upon her in a few menacing strides. Grip tight, his fingers dug into her arms as he gave her a brief shake and pulled her closer. "Do not forget your place, _wife_! It is by my side, at my rule! I will not have you defy me." Words ominous, the menace in his voice barely restrained, he released his grip, casting her from him.

Mouth agape in disbelief she made to argue, but thought better of it and decided to reconcile. "Never, my husband. My place is; and always will be, at your side. I only wish the best for us." Pausing she assessed his demeanour, looking for any indication that he had calmed before continuing. She may have wanted to push his control, but he was a man to be feared.

"We'll just have to devise a plan to overthrow him. He, unlike the former Lord Marshall, is only a man and will be easy to kill. The only problem we face in achieving his demise is that Riddick happens to be quite a capable warrior, almost animalistic and instinctive in his abilities." She said.

A frown set deep on Vaako's face at the admiration in her voice. Spying his sour look, she sauntered to him, hips swaying enticingly. Reaching him, she let her dress fall, discarded to the floor, and she slid her hands up his strong armour covered chest to his broad shoulders, drawing her body up his to whisper sweetly in his ear. "Everything I do husband; is for us, for you. To bring you power over this unconquered empire and all the planets in all the systems. I do it only for you, my Lord."

Drawing his earlobe into her mouth she bit down, hard and dragged it through her teeth, before letting it fall from her mouth. With a growl he grasped her hips, pulling her body closer against his. "You, wife, will be the death of me."

A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she ground her hips against his. "Yes, as it should be husband. As is the Necromunger way, you keep what you kill. You are mine and I will keep you."

Another growl worked its way from deep within his chest as he wrenched her skirt to her waist and seized the backs of her thighs.

Caught by surprise, she gasped at his impulsiveness but quickly wrapped her legs around his hips as he lifted her from the ground and marched them to their bed chamber.

Depositing her roughly on their bed, he removed his breast plate before crawling over her. Glaring intensely down at his wife, it amazed him that even with her skirt gathered around her hips and the almost ugly curl of her lip; she was the epitome of perfection. Not a hair out of place, makeup impeccable. How he would enjoy ruining this perfection.

Dame Vaako smirked at the intensity of his smouldering gaze, as he moved up her body. She had always enjoyed when her husband loosened the hold over his control, allowing himself to be brash and impulsive. Emotional. She would almost go so far as to say she loved that side of him, but she did not love him. Just as he did not love her. They were merely tools for the other to use in their ascent to the top, it just happened to be an added benefit that they shared a physical attraction. But he belonged to her, and no other.

She could not deny that Vaako was flawlessly sculpted; the embodiment of male perfect. None could compare to him in his physical beauty. He was dark and haunting, but beautiful. Yet… there may just be one other: Riddick.

Head tilting to rest on her shoulder, she smiled demurely at her husband as her thoughts lingered on the new Lord Marshal. He didn't have the dark beauty that Vaako embodied, but he was pure male; masculinity at its finest. Rugged, dirty, powerful. If she thought she could convince him to take her to his bed before her husband killed him, she would. And she would enjoy it.

* * *

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Light absorbing eyes took in the dark patterns carved in the ceiling above his bed. A deep sigh rumbled through his chest as he stared into the inky blackness where he lived his life. The darkness held no secrets from him, but when he closed his eyes, all he wanted to do was escape the truths it told.

Riddick knew he should try to sleep, if only for a few hours, but he couldn't; no matter how much he wanted to, give into the solace of dreamless, lifeless slumber. What he really needed was to _rest_, but his mind wouldn't stop. Wouldn't stop thinking, remembering, replaying the past with soul crushing clarity.

Behind his lids he could see her, at the beginning, before she was spoilt. Perfect. She was pale and delicate in the glorious suns that hid so much of her from him. When she came to him in the skeleton of the ship, he could smell the fear coming off her in waves. But there was something, something that was hidden beneath the fear and sweat. He could almost place it when he tempted her closer. But when his unprotected eyes caught hers, his sense of smell had diminished. He had even failed to notice that the kid was approaching until it was too late and she had ran away from him.

He had originally followed her into skiff to tease her with the hidden truth of Johns, a truth he'd leave her to discover for herself. But deep down all he really wanted was to see more of her.

And see he did, the fear and the trepidation that ran unchecked through her body and across her face as he had lent over her shoulder. He could smell the sweat that lingered on her skin and the underlying scent from before; he had wanted to run his tongue down the cord of her neck, to take in more of her scent; to_ taste _her. But he feared her reaction, her rejection. And he withdrew, leaving her alone quivering in the skiff.

The next time he was alone with her, they were in the rain. Both completely sodden, he had appreciated the way her form fitting clothes clung tighter to her body outlining her curves to his hungry eyes.

He beckoned to her, pleading with his hidden eyes for her to leave this planet, to come with him. To survive… with him. And she listened. For the briefest of seconds she had agreed, had moved toward him, toward her salvation. He had held her, hands lightly resting on her hips guiding her, fingers twitching, wanting to sink into her flesh and pull her closer and never let her go.

But her conscience had kicked in and she turned on him, pushing him back to land in the mud, with her landing heavily over him. Rolling them over, he was again struck with the urge to sink into her body, to enjoy the way her curves melded to fit him. But he held back, afraid. Afraid of her and afraid what he'd do if she refused him. Whilst he may be a beast, he would never have forced her. But what he would do to himself was another matter, and it terrified him that she had so much control over him without even knowing it. He was not an animal to be caged!

Angry at himself and at her, he lashed out. Asking her why? Why would she sacrifice herself for the few pitiful people that still lived when they could leave; survive. Would she die for them? Would she die for them just so she wouldn't have to be with him?

Yes. She would die for them. But she didn't, she never does, not for them. Every night she dies and every night it is for him. And it kills him. Every night a little more of his humanity dies with her.

Riddick woke. Something was coming; the piecing silence that surrounded his quarters was far too quiet. Slipping off the bed, he slid on his pants and moved to the door with quiet grace. Muscles taut and ready to fight, he waited.

The faint tapping of boots filled his ears, probably his entourage coming to escort his to the dining hall. Fuck that. He pushed away from the wall to go back to bed, but not before he caught the faint sound of a sharp clicking over the monotonous thudding of the soldiers boots. The noise came closer to his quarters not stopping with soldiers.

Riddick was forced back as the large doors flew open and the Dame Vaako flounced through. She stopped short of him, her dark eyes running the length of his partially clothed body, eyes lingering on the tanned skin of his hips displayed by the low rise of his pants.

"Lord Marshall." She addressed him, a smirk playing on her lips as her eyes met his.

He gave a small chuckle, when would the woman learn flattery wasn't going to get her anywhere with him. "Dame Vaako. What a surprise to see you here. What can I do for you?" He asked, arms crossing his chest.

"Pleasant, I hope. I am here on the behalf of my husband. I had…" she sauntered toward him as she spoke, stopping abruptly as he dared to cut her off.

"Why'd he send you? Vaako's a big boy." Riddick smirked at her pinched expression. The woman didn't like being interrupted, but he just couldn't resist.

Her eyes narrowed before her face once again changed to the false grin, "As I was saying, I had thought you'd be far more enticed to join my husband in a sparring match if _I_ asked."

Dancing around him, she came to a stop on his left, running her hand down the thickly corded muscles of his bicep and forearm. She breathed in deeply; she could just imagine what he could do with those beautifully bronzed arms. She relished in the heat of him. Riddick was a bronzed man, hot and brazen, where Vaako was a porcelain god, cool and shrewd. The two were a vast contrast.

Her delicate hand grasped Riddick's, feeling the rough worked skin of his fingers as she lead him from the room. Her stomach clenched at thought of those hands running across the compass of her skin, catching on the fine hairs that covered her body. He would be an experience to enjoy. A sultry smug smile settled over her lips as she led him from his chambers.

Riddick could smell the excitement on the woman hanging off his arm. _Just what the hell did she want from him? _He watched the laboured rise and fall of her bosom displayed enticingly by the low cut of her dress. The material moulded to her like a second skin, pushing her breasts up for any appreciative eye to see. But he had a feeling it was intended only for him.

Together they strode into the training area. Vaako was standing to the west of them sharpening his weapon, his attention drawn away from his task at their entrance. Riddick noticed the way the Necromunger's jaw clenched, and so had the Dame. Her grip on him tightened; possessively, before slipping away to watch from a safe distance.

Spear in hand, Vaako approached. An arms length between them he thrust out his free hand toward Riddick. Peering down at it the Lord Marshall noticed a knife glinting temptingly at him. He smirked. It was the same blade he had forced in the former Lord Marshall's head, taking his life and his kingdom.

He lifted his head to look at the Necromunger, and saw the faint smirk that tilted his mouth. Riddick chuckled quietly and took the blade from him, twirling it around his hand, getting a feel for it again. '_He musta pulled it from the guy's head. I know I sure as hell didn't. So, he wants to try his luck against me with the weapon that bested two of the Necromunger's _finest_ warriors._' He chuckled at the thought, what chance did this punk stand.

The men backed away to stand at opposite ends of the training mat. Riddick waggled the tip of the knife a Vaako. "You ready for this? Coz I'm going to kick your ass."

His opponent only snorted, his smirk spreading across his face before giving a slight nod to signal his ready.

Knees soft, Riddick's hand was lax on the weapon's hilt. He'd been aching to let go of this tension in his body, fight until he could no longer stand and collapsed in exhaustion. Vaako was about to oblige him by willingly stepping forward to be his punching bag. A feral smirk twisted his lips.

Weapons in hand, the two warriors circled, muscles twitching in anticipation of who'd make the first move. It was Vaako. Lunging forward, he shoved the spear towards Riddick's unprotected body, knowing he'd miss. He'd seen Riddick take down one of his strongest men with little effort and more recently, the Lord Marshall, and that was no small feat. He would have to be smart about this; he could not simply take the man down relying on brute strength alone.

Riddick inwardly snorted at the poor attack of the Necromunger soldier, he had expected better. Throwing his hands up, he straightened from his stance, "Don't make me laugh!

Where's the fearless Nerco I've been hearin' about, huh? Now quit bein' some pansy assed fuck and FIGHT ME!" he roared, charging at Vaako.

Dame Vaako watched in delight as the two males danced across the sparring mat, the Furian's aggressive attack pushed her husband back, keeping him on the defensive. She could see the irritation marring his face. If this was how the fight was going to continue, Riddick was going to win with little effort at all.

This realisation made her snarl in disgust at her husband's obvious weakness. He was the leader of the Necromunger's forces and he couldn't hold his own against one lowly Furian!? Their people had swarmed the Furian planet and destroyed all traces of the inferior race; except one, the most important one. He alone had survived and accomplished the very thing the Lord Marshall had feared, the reason he'd destroyed the planet and its inhabitants. The prophecy that a Furian would take his throne and Riddick had done just that.

Riddick lunged forward again, pushing his opponent further back. He'd had enough of this damned cat and mouse game. Vaako had barely made an attempt to try and attack him in return. What the fuck was he playin' at? Snarling in anger, he turned the blade in his hand, and stomped towards the Necromunger.

Curious, but wary of the Furian's approach, he made use of the cease fire and swung his spear towards his opponent. Riddick anticipated the attack, and stepped in towards Vaako to avoid the attack, knocking the thrusting arm away and shoving Vaako's shoulders forcefully.

"What the fuck, Vaako. What are you playin' at?" Riddick bellowed.

Vaako straightened, regaining his balance. He inclined his head, as if daring the Furian to challenge him. Refusing to respond.

"You tryin' ta tire me out, deflecting all of my attacks until I'm too tired to defend myself.' Riddick chuckled mirthlessly, 'Don't make me laugh. I could keep goin' all day long. You dunno what I could do to you, Vaako. But you keep fuckin' with me like this and you'll find out." He drew his fist back and swung at Vaako and connected sharply with the man's nose. A crack resonated through the quiet training room. Shaking his head, Riddick left.

Dame Vaako lunched herself from her chair. She hadn't expected Riddick would have attacked her husband in such a way and gaped at his retreating back. Doors slamming closed she turned her attention to her husband. She could clearly see the red blood marring his pale skin. If she got closer she knew she'd too be able to the see the bruising blossoming at the bridge of his nose.

Vaako looked up at his wife. He had watched her as she had watched Riddick leave the training area, the disbelief going unchecked on her face. A frown creased his brow when she had finally turned her attentions to him. Rage mixed with the disbelief behind her eyes.

He waited as she made her way down from the stands and across the mat. The pulsing of her rage could be felt with every step she took. Halting in front of him, she let out a restrained screech and slapped him. She raised her hand a second time, but he caught her wrist before her palm could make contact.

"I let you get away with it once. Do not try it again, _wife,_ or I _will_ punish you. This is your only warning." His grip left red welts around her delicate wrist, bruises to match his own. Glaring at her once more he strode away from her, as if never sustaining the injures to his face.

The Dame swallowed her tongue. She knew better than to test her luck. She was surprised his hadn't struck her for what she had done. But she was furious. Once again, he had failed their cause, failed her! It had been her plan that Vaako would spar with Riddick, until the Furian was too tired to stand. She knew all too well that he hadn't been sleeping. That some unknown ghost was lurking behind his eyes, haunting his dreams.

All Vaako needed to do was hold him off until he tired, but she had underestimated his capabilities. She let out an enraged scream, the frustration causing her to buckle falling to the floor in a heap. This colony would be hers even if she had to take it herself.


	5. Chapter 4 Looking Back

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black or the Chronicles of Riddick which are the creative and legal property of David Twohy. Any constructive criticism is welcome._

_._

_Reflections_

_Chapter Four - Looking Back_

* * *

.

.

Jack sighed for the umpteenth time that day, staring blankly at the soft swirling patterns on the ceiling. They would have been calming, if her brain could stop thinking for two seconds. Sighing again, she flopped onto her stomach, wincing as her back started to ache.

It had been two days since she had seen Riddick. Two days that he had left her to mull over his and her own words. She had been so angry when he left and refused to let any of what he had said sink in. But as time ticked on, she couldn't help but repeat the conversation.

"_I hate you, I HATE Jack. Jack's gone… Jack's weak… she's weak."_

"_Jack… Jack, was never weak. Even in her fear, she stayed strong. Even knowing it was more than likely she'd die, she stayed strong. You're not weak. Kyra's weak, runnin' away… you're better than that Jackie."_

"Kyra. My name is Ky..." she grimaced at the taste of the words. Who was she kidding? She wasn't Kyra, anymore. Riddick was right. Kyra was weak, running away from everything. Even in slam, as much as she fought, the people she had beat down just to clamber over them in her escape from her past, her thoughts always came back to the people who had impacted her life the most.

She strived day in and day out to be as much like Riddick as she could. She'd lived by his example, done all the things he told her not to do, to get sent to slam. He'd been her childhood hero, her strength in the night. She'd loved him for being there for her on that planet years ago and hated him for leaving her behind when it was all over. But she still tried to emulate him, to draw courage from his memory. It had worked until she had found a doctor willing to do the shine job… Then she faltered. Couldn't go though with the last irrevocable change. It would have defiled him, the memory of the good he'd brought her and changed her completely into Kyra.

When he found her, she threw it back in his face, screaming at him, challenging him. The desire almost strong enough for him to just end it. Put her out of her misery. Let her forget.

"Jack." The name felt heavy on her tongue. Even it was a façade she used to escape her life. The life of a poor, unloved little girl, Audrey. She didn't know who was worse. But ultimately, they were all her. She was still Audrey, the frightened little girl. Jack, the girl masquerading as a boy to escape the discrimination and abuse. Kyra, a way to hide from the pain of losing everything she wanted, and had had for such a short time.

"Jack…" as much as she didn't want to face up to the pain, she wanted to be Jack again. She wanted to have that life with all the good and bad memories. She had Riddick back that was a start, after all.

Riddick, he had called her Jackie. Last time he'd said that to her was on the planet where they lost everything… where they lost Carolyn.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, the memory of the blonde woman bringing bile to her throat, burning it. She couldn't bear to say the name over the choking lump in her throat. Swallowing the name and the memories she shook the thoughts from her mind.

A scuffling of shoes made her sit up, expectation lighting up her face. _'Oh, it's just the doctor._' Her face fell as she stared at the man she had no interest in seeing.

The doctor rolled his eyes as he watched the girl's expression. His entire form oozed contempt. "Are we going to have any problems today, miss?" He asked. The title '_miss'_ dripping with distain, as he glared down at her.

Sighing, Jack rolled her eyes and levelled him with her own glare. "Not unless you give me a reason to start causin' 'em."

Raising an eyebrow at her cheeky response, he shook his head smirking. He knew how to get her to back down, how to break her. But it was her fight that made the task so much more satisfying. With an air of arrogance he made his way to the storage cupboard lined with tranquilisers.

Opening the door he looked back at her, "Are we going to have any problems today, hmm?"

"No," she sighed in defeat when she realized the hidden threat in his actions. "No problems."

The door clicked shut and he strode to her bedside, indicating for her to lie on her stomach. He leant over her, untying the fasteners of her medical shirt to examine her back. She jumped as he prodded the tender flesh.

"Hey! Watch it!" Turning on her side, she tried to swat at his hand.

Ignoring her efforts, he gave her a snide grin, "Oh, I'm sorry, did that hurt you? I have to check that the skin is healing properly. Did it cause you pain, when I applied pressure to the area?"

"You know damned well that it hurts asshole! Just… do what you do and get it over and done with."

He shook his head as he added further notes on her recovery to the holographic chart. He had actually expected her to fight him on it further. Something must be wrong with the girl if she wasn't rising to the challenge. He found it most disappointing.

Rolling over, Jack tentatively settled herself against her pillows so she could watch him as he moved around the room. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw 'im. If he had the opportunity, she reckoned he'd shove a knife in her back and twist.

Turning back to her, he let go of some of his animosity, "Would you like to view your progress, see how your back is healed?"

"Ah… Sure." She was surprised by the question. Suspiciously, she slid her bottom to the edge of the bed, slipping her feet onto the cold floor. Gripping the side of the bed, she shook her legs; one at a time, to make sure her pant legs fell neatly into place. The ploy hid the fact her knees felt like jelly and her head swam. It was the first time she'd been out of bed since she was brought here. Taking tentative steps, she moved slowly to where the doctor was standing.

He looked briefly at her, before he turned toward the door. "Come on, I haven't got all day."

"Yeah, yeah. You try walkin' after layin' in bed for a week and see how fast you move. Jerk." She snarled at his back

The Nercomonger let out a brief chuckle and looked over his shoulder, letting his eyes trail down the length of her person. He'd never admit it, but he rather enjoyed her spirited nature. It would have been a shame if the Conversion had taken and she'd become one of the living-dead. As it was there seemed to have been some lasting affects. She was much more docile, the rage that had been in her had lessened.

"What?" She asked, feeling a bit awkward at his appraisal. Not trusting the look in his eyes. _'Had he just checked me out? Weird...'_

She followed the doctor to the mirror and stared wide eyed at her reflection. Moving closer to it, she examined her appearance. Her curls were wild, flying in all directions. Self-consciously she tried to brush them down with her hand. Stepping hesitantly closer to the looking-glass, it was painfully evident by the changes in her body that she hadn't eaten for a long while. Gripping the sides of her shirt, she turned slowly so her back was to the mirror. A little apprehensive about what she might see; her grip tightened, as she pulled the sides of the shirt apart. She took a deep breath and slowly rotated her head to examine the exposed flesh.

Staring, unblinkingly at the mirror she carefully inspected the reflection of her back. _'Oh holy… wow. My back is… wow.'_ All and any thoughts and preconceptions fell from her head, out of her ear at what she saw. Changing her grip to hold the shirt in one hand, she twisted her left arm to run her hand over her exposed flesh. The area still stung a little when her fingers grazed over it but nothing like she expected it to.

Nothing. Not a thing, no scar, no bruise, no scab, nothing! The only indication there was, that something might have happened to her, was a circle of skin, a shade lighter, than the rest of her back.

_

* * *

_

.

_One day later:_

Riddick stormed through the ship on his way to the Medical Bay. He was still irritated from the nothing fight he'd had with Vaako. All he wanted to do was sink his shiv into someone's spine and relish the copper tang of their blood. But right now wasn't the time to think about these things. He'd received progress reports from the doctor as to Jack's recovery, but he needed to see for himself how she was doing.

As he walked, he thought about the young woman. _'Jack. Kyra… you like runnin' away don't ya kid. Ahh… shit kid! Why'd ya do it? Steppin' into my fight. I don't wanna lose another one, not after I just found you again. I ain't… I ain't getting' the other one back this easily. Damn it Jack!'_

Blindly he turned down another corridor, lost in his thoughts. Two soldiers were walking his way, their ridged forms bowed in respect to the power he held.

He gave each a small almost polite nod of acknowledgement in response, one beast to another. The power of the Necromonger's was not something to dismiss. And he rather enjoyed the fights, they let him get out his built up frustration about Jack. But since the fight with Vaako, challenges against his strength had stopped. He could see the unease they had around him, unease that meant fear. Fear was good; it was something he could work with.

Riddick made it to the medical bay quicker than he expected. _'Lost in thought… always lost in thought. Need to cut this shit out.' _He stepped quietly through the door of Jack's room. She was lying on her stomach, head facing the foot of the bed she began to stir at his presence. Lifting her head slightly, she looked at him with a guilty face.

"Hi, Riddick."

"Hey kid."

"Don't call me that. I don't like it."

"Too bad, kid, cause it's stickin'."

Flopping onto her back she gave-up a defeated sigh. "Ya know, you fuckin' suck." She tipped her head to look in his direction.

Chuckling he moved closer to the side of her bed. "So I've heard." He looked around the room until he spotted a chair. Picking it up, he placed it a few feet away from the bedside. He sat down and leaned back, swinging his right foot up onto the opposite knee. "How you feelin' kid, you got knocked around pretty good there."

Arms folded she huffed and turned her head away from him, mumbling into her shoulder.

"Sorry kid, I didn't catch that." He knew very well what she'd said, but he wanted to work her over a little, get her a little riled, and open her up.

"I said it's not like you give a fuck, so why bother askin'. Why don't you just go away and leave me the alone." She snapped, and turned to face the opposite wall. She didn't want to start an argument, but something in her couldn't let it go of the fact that he had let her go.

Laughter rumbled from deep within Riddick's chest, as he leant forward, elbows on his knees. "Oh, but I do care Jackie. Shit, you could've made a big mess on _my_ shinny new floors, couldn't have that now could we? 'Specially since everythin's under new command, it would make a bad impression."

"_What the fuck! _Oh I'm _so_ sorry to have made a mess of _your_ floors _mister_ Riddick! Not likely to happen again I'm sure. You'll probably just dump me at the next station and I'll be on my way." Pouting, she picked imaginary lint off of the sheet on her bed. She couldn't stop herself. Every feeling of doubt and hurt fell from her mouth like a waterfall.

With an exasperated sigh, Riddick straightened his posture and rubbed his forehead above the straps of his goggles. They'd been through this before. "Listen Jack, I do care all right, really. You had me worried for a while there, thought you weren't gonna make it."

With her head still tilted down, she looked at him through the tangled mop of hair on her head. "Really? You're not jus' sayin' that, right?" She looked like an insecure kid.

"'Course I do Kid. But don't you be tellin' anyone that, you hear me." He stood pointing an accusing finger at her.

He smirked at her as she bit her lip and tried to hide her smile. It was easier for him to talk to her now after the blow-out they'd had a few days ago. It had cleared the air and gotten things in the open. It made it easier to slip back into the banter they'd had before, back on that eclipsed planet. The planet where he had lost so much just to gain what little freedom he could, but still ended up running like a hunted beast.

"I'll see you tomorrow, kid." Riddick said as he loped to the door. He hovered in the frame and turned back to take one last look, his left eyebrow raised in query as he waited for her response.

"Yeah, okay tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow." Her head dropped in defeat.

Signing, he rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, we'll be gettin' you outta here and into your own quarters."

Her head snapped up, shock on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but he was already out the door. Grinning to herself she settled down to sleep for the night, flopping on her back with a happy sigh.


	6. Chapter 5 Footfalls of Memories

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black or the Chronicles of Riddick which are the creative and legal property of David Twohy. Any constructive criticism is welcome._

_Hello!! __Yes, I am still alive. I apologise for the wait but hopefully it was worth it and I can make up for it in the future!_

_._

_Reflections_

_Chapter Five - Footfalls of Memories_

"_Footfalls echo in the memory_

_Down the passage which we did not take_

_Through the door we never opened__." _By T.S. Eliot

* * *

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.

She threw herself out the door and slammed it shut. Sighing in relief she slumped against the opposite wall. "Okay, okay, you're all right, just remember to breathe." Taking a deep breath she held it in, and then slowly exhaled, keeping her lips pursed as she'd been taught. "Just, calm down."

"Are you alright, love?" Startled, she snapped her head to the side and found the owner of the voice, the old man from across the hall. What was his name? Barry, Brady… Barney? She had spoken to him a few times, he had told at some point, but just like everything else, she couldn't seem to remember his name.

Staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights she pulled her face into an unconvincing grin. Laughing, a little weakly, she shook her head in the affirmation. "Yes, yes, I'm fine… Thank you."

"Are you sure? You scurried out that door like there was somefin' after ya. Why don't you come in for a cuppa tea?" he asked turning in a circle to face his doorway, and swinging his arm, encouraging her to join him.

She pushed herself off the wall and took a few tentative steps toward him. "No, no, that won't be necessary. I'm late as it is… I have an appointment… and I…"

He shook his head as he walked toward her saying, "Nonsense, I insist. I don't much have the pleasure of pretty young women for company these days." He grasped her arm gently and ushered her toward his door. She stumbled over her feet in her reluctance to follow.

Tipping her head slightly she considered wrenching her arm from his grip, but discarded the idea. She needed as many friends as she could get, and her appointment at the hospital wasn't actually for another hour, she just needed to get out of her apartment, away from her minds vivid images. "If it's of no trouble to you? I don't want to intrude."

He chuckled gently. "I wouldn't 'ave asked ya, luv if I minded. Now, what did you say your name was, I know you've told me, but me old mind can't remember things like it use to."

She gave a brief snort, "that makes two of use." Mumbling under her breath.

"What was that, luv? Need to speak louder, honey."

"Umm," her throat closed over as she tried to force the name out, "…L.. Lynn." Would it always be this hard?

He stopped to look at her, concern shadowing his face. He opened his mouth as if to ask a question but thought better of it and his eyes brightened again. "Lynn, Lynn, wouldn't happen to be short for Jacquelyn or Carolyn would it?"

A smile started to form on her lips, ready to laugh the query off, but those names… Something fluttered in the back of her mind. She knew those names. But where from?

_Jacquelyn, Jacquelyn, Jac… Jack._ Why did that mean something to her? What did it mean? Her brows furrowed as a dull ache started between her eyes. Argh! It only started to hurt like this when she couldn't remember something. It was right there, just behind the door to her memories, all she had to do was open the door.

"You alright, hon?" the old man asked.

Her hand fell from her face as she looked up at him. When had she raised her arm?

"Ah… yes, fine. Just got a sudden headache, sorry."

"Ha ha, no-no, luv, you're alright. Got something for that if you'd like." He chuckled, give her hand a pat.

A genuine smile crossed her lips, "No, thank you. I'll be fine."

"If you say so." With one last pat on the hand, he shuffled off into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

It was nice, the inside on his flat. Small, smaller than hers, but much more warm, homey. She could hear him tinkering about in the kitchen, the sounds of drawers being opened and closed, crockery being pulled out of the cupboard, running water filling the kettle.

"Don't be shy, make yourself at home!" his chipper voice ran out.

Hesitantly she edged towards the kitchen table. Pulling a chair out, she cringed as it scraped against the floor, and sat down quickly as to not make further noise. She sat there awkwardly until the silence started to pierce her ears.

"You've umm, you're got a lovely home, er… umm Ba… I'm sorry, what was your name again?" She couldn't do it anymore, she needed to know! It would be at least one thing she could be sure of.

"Oh, that's mighty nice of you to say, haven't changed much since my wife passed, so it's all her handy work.' He gave her a quick smile over his shoulder. 'She was a beauty in her day, mind you, I thought she was beautiful, until her last moments."

Lynn stared at his back puzzled. He had completely avoided her question. Maybe he hadn't heard her. Clearing her throat she tried again. "I'm sorry but I've seem to forgotten your name…"

If she hadn't been watching him she wouldn't have noticed the slight pause in his actions before he went on with what he was doing. He definitely heard her that time, she was positive. He was purposefully ignoring her. Why wasn't he answering such a simple question?

The minutes ticked away slowly as she contemplated the situation. He has been very aware when he asked her name, even asking if it was short for something, pointedly suggesting Jacquelyn and Carolyn. He hadn't even pushed for the answer when she failed to respond.

He knew something she didn't. She might not have the greatest mind at this point in time, but her gut told her something was off.

"Here we go then," the old man said as he pushed the tray carefully onto the table, not wanting to disrupt the tea pot and cups. Setting a cup in front of her he poured the tea. She watched distractedly as the steam billowed before her, before she noticed the man's arm half way towards her tea with a sugar lump.

"Sugar?" he asked just as he dropped the cube.

Her hand snatched out to clasp the rim of her cup, the sugar cube hitting her fingers before falling to the table. "No, thank you."

A twitch started in his left eye, his face pinched before his face smoothed over and he blinded his ire away. Lynn pursed her lips, suspicion clouding her features. She couldn't be sure if it was her mind playing tricks on her or if he really was up to something. Letting out a deep sigh she shook the idea from her mind.

"Oh well,' he laughed nervously, 'how's about some milk then?" he lifted the jug ready to pour.

"No!" her hand reached out to protect her cup again but in her panic sent it sailing towards the floor.

Both pair of hands rushed for the broken shards. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think. I've been so distracted this morning… my mind's been…" Lynn rambled on as she picked piece after piece from the tiles.

"No-no dear, its no worry. I'll just get a mop." He stood and hurried to get the mop and bucket.

Shifting her balance she lent to grab a piece from under the table. It was further then she thought and swayed again. Her shoe slipped causing her to lurch forward, and she sent out both hands to stop her decent. She hissed as the shards bit into her palm.

"Ah shit." She muttered, watching as the blood pooled in her hand

Coming back to the kitchen the elderly man mopped up the tea and the bits of cup from the floor. He looked up at Lynn's motionless form and stopped to watch her. "Lynn, Love? You alright?"

"Hmm. Oh… I seem to have cut myself." She looked up at him absent-mindedly. For one quick second she'd had a flash of red splotches on grey rock, but it came and went too quickly, she couldn't hold onto to it.

"Come on love, we'll go get that cleaned up in…" He leaned the mop against the wall and walked over to her.

"No…..I'll….I'll…be alright. I should leave anyway, I have somewhere to be." She mumbled, cutting him off. She gingerly picked up her bag and waddled to the door. All the while looking at her fingers and trying to recall that one quick flash. But it was gone, locked tightly behind the door along with all her other hidden memories. She tilted her head to the side as if to peer over her shoulder. "Thank you… for the tea, I think. Sorry I broke your cup." Still in a daze she walked down the hall to the stairs.

Her bloodied hands pushed against the door to the stairwell leaving a crimson smear as she stumbled through. She looked around coming out of her daze. "How'd I… I was with that man…" She walked slowly down the steps on autopilot, trying to recall the eyes she knew but couldn't remember. The splotches of blood were again forgotten.

* * *

.

Lynn stood in front of the hospital building, looking up at it in confusion. "Wasn't I just… This is not my day." She rubbed tiredly at her forehead. Blue eyes opened to stare at the building again for a few moments, before she willed he legs to move. Shuffling forward through the sliding doors her nostrils were assaulted by the sterilised scent that was a hospital.

A sick feeling pulled at her stomach. Taking a short breath she hurried to the triage.

On tiptoes she pushed herself up against the counter to talk to receptionist. "Ah... Hi, I'm Lynn Richards. I'm here for my appointment with doctor…"

Without looking up the harried woman pointed a finger, directing her to the waiting area. "Please take a seat, and he'll get to you eventually."

Taken aback, she slid away from the counter and back onto the flats of her feet. "You don't even know who…' the nurse waggled her finger at the waiting room, 'Right, I'll go wait then." She rolled her eyes as she stepped back from the triage and wandered to the waiting room to find a seat." I hate this place!" she sighed and sat down. Hand at her temple, she rubbed it in an attempt to ward off an oncoming headache. "Stupid hospital, I don't wanna be here. Stupid doctor making me come; should've just scheduled an appointment for another day when he was at his clinic," she mumbled to herself.

Her hand fell from her face and she unconsciously rubbed them together, working the pieces of ceramic further into the skin. Blood now stained both hands. Biting her tongue she shook her hand to rid it of the pain, before focusing on the blood she had smeared on her hands, and twitching fingers.

"_Stupid, stupid. How could you be so careless pickin' up the broke cup."_ Hands balling into fists she hissed in pain as her nails accidently hooked the damaged skin. "Fuck! Fuck that hurt." Tears stung her eyes and again shook her hand vigorously to try and control the pain.

"Miss, are you alright?" Lynn jumped in fright at the gentle hand on her shoulder. Eyes flicked from the hand on her shoulder to the body attached. She tried smiling but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. I just hurt myself that's all… Thank you." Wide-eyed she stared at the older woman.

"Are you sure? You don't seem all that fine if you ask me." Concern filled her face as she took in the smaller woman's dishevelled appearance. "Are you here to have your wound treated?"

The blonde narrowed her eyes at the nurse, glaring at her. _'Well no one asked you did they?'_ she thought. She crossed her arms, carefully tucking away her wounded limb. A fake smile pulled her lips "No no, just here to see the doctor. It's not that bad. Really.'

The nurse drew up to her full height, leaving her hand resting on Lynn's shoulder, "Why don't you let me have a look at your hand, honey?" she asked, trying to gently pull Lynn's hand from its hiding place.

"No. It's fine. I don't need it looked at. Please leave me alone." The blonde forced through clenched teeth.

"I'm a nurse, honey. Just humour me." She said a no-arguments look on her face.

But Lynn wasn't having it. "I don't care what you are. I've politely refused your help so back off,' her eyes scanned the nurse's nametag, 'Maria."

Maria's face pursed like she'd just sucked on a lemon. "Fine. Just don't come cryin' to me if it gets infected." Lifting her head, she turned on her heeling a pranced away, colliding with a man, sending flowers and chocolates flying everywhere. With a huff she marched past his now hunched form, refusing to apologise.

"For fuck's sake." The blonde said under her breath. That woman had something serious stuck up her arse. The thought ebbed away and her gaze was drawn back to her hands. Maybe she should clean them up a bit.

Lynn stood from the chair and hurried to the ladies bathroom. She leant forward to push on the door but jumped back as a woman swung it open. "Sorry." The word echoed by the women as they danced around each other to go their separate ways.

She kept her head down to avoid looking in the mirror and turned on the tap. Pushing the lever on the soap dispenser only a drizzle came out on her palm, frowning, she started pushing it furiously. "Come on, soap! Get out!" With a growl she used the pitiful amount, rubbing it gently between her hands. Rinsing off the pink bubbles she tentatively picked out the remaining pieces of cup.

The door swung open as the small blonde used her bodyweight and stumbled against it. A small snort emitted from her throat, holding in a giggle while the people in the hall looked at her oddly. Wiping her damp palms down the legs of her pants, she saw a flash of metal and she gripped the material covering her thighs. The texture felt odd, different from the simple cotton slacks she wore.

Confusion knitted her brow, her once baggy beige cargo pants were now a slim, tight-fitting, dark blue uniform. She blinked quickly and the colour changed. Her legs were once again covered in the soft beige cotton. A confused frown marred her pale features as she shuffled back to her chair.

With a sigh of relief to be sitting again, she leant her head against the wall and looked up at the ceiling and let her eyes drift shut. She expected the stark white of the waiting room lights to keep the darkness at bay, even through closed lids, but all she could see was black. A shiver travelled down her spine as she sensed a darker shadow pass over her, and an ear-piercing wail sounded out. With a gasp she tried to draw away from the sound but something stopped her.

She concentrated trying to see through the darkness and beyond to what held her. Finally the dark shadow came into hazy view. Tilting her head to look up, she saw its eyes glinting in the silhouette. With a gasp her lids snapped open and she took in the pallid hospital waiting room. "Not again, please, not again."

"'Please, not again' what?" asked a curious voice.

Lynn blinked quickly only to be blinded by the ceiling lights. Head tipping forward she covered her face with her hands to rid herself of the spots filling her vision and looked to the source of the question. "Oh… ah, nothing it's not important." Vision clearing she saw it was Doctor Adams.

With a tolerant huff he crossed his arms. "Not important? Concerning you, it's very important." Extending a hand, he reached for hers. She stood on wobbly legs. Concern crossed the doctor's face.

"You alright?"

"Mm hmm." Not trusting herself to speak again with the images still floating in the back of her eyes.

"Come on, we'll go somewhere more… private." wiggling his eyebrows mock-suggestively. Her nerves relaxed at little as a small smile turned her mouth and followed him down the corridor.

* * *

.

Doctor Adams closed the door after they had entered. Sliding past Lynn's chair he sat down in his own. "So, what was it you were talking about out the waiting room? I had to call out to you a few times before you woke up."

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she was hesitant to answer. "I… earlier today, I had… I saw something that wasn't there. Something I didn't recognize."

"Could it have been a memory?" He inquired, leaning forward over his desk.

"Maybe… I don't know. I… I felt like I knew them… but I just. I don't know." Grimacing she rubbed at her face, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Them? You saw people?" he asked, as he leant further toward her.

She took in his form hovering over the desk and raised her eyebrow. _"If he keeps it up he's going to be sitting on it."_ She folded her arms a little defensively. "Umm, not exactly." Doctor Adams watched her expectantly. "It was… a pair of eyes mainly. They were kind of… silver coloured.' She let out a short laugh, 'this is going to sound stupid, but it was like, it felt like they were looking at, no. Into me. Like they were trying to tell me something." Throwing her arms up, she signed. "I don't know. I… when I was in the waiting room I saw them again."

Adams slid off the desk back into his chair. "It seems to me, Lynn; that you're on your way to recovering your memory." As he tapped away on the touch screen monitor inputting the latest pieces of information, she pushed her bum off the seat to see what he was writing.

Pausing briefly he lifted his brow at her, smiling guiltily she slide back into her chair. Finished he turned off the screen. "Tell me again why you choose the name Lynn Richards? What was it that drew you to it?" he prodded.

Brows drawing together she looked at him in suspiciously. This was just like this morning. "I… umm, well. It just… sounded right, you know. I just… I don't know, Lynn felt right, like it belonged to me. We've been over this before, why are you asking me again?" A little voice inside of her told her to be careful. That something obviously wasn't right. First with her neighbour, now the doctor.

He could she was drawing back inside herself, putting back up the walls from before. This would not do. Smiling he lent back in his chair "No real reason, just wanted to refresh my memory. Now that you have, let's take a look at that back of yours." Shuffling past her, he stopped at the exam table in the corner of the room.

She rose from her chair and stepped tentatively towards the table. Once she'd jumped up onto it, she kicked off her shoes and shifted to lie on her stomach.

Cautiously Adams lifted the bottom of her shirt drawing it up her back. "Excuse the cold fingers," he muttered as he felt the damaged skin. "It's coming along nicely. Does it hurt when I apply pressure to what is left of the scar tissue?"

"No. It just feels like you're pushing on my back."

With a small chuckle he pulled her shirt back to its original position. "All right then. I think two or so more treatments with the nano-bots and your back will be back to the way it was before… umm, well you get the idea. Are you sure you don't remember how you came to get your wounds? Maybe these mysterious eyes are connected."

She slid off the bed and slipped her shoes back on. "Maybe, but neither of us will know until I remember."

With his hand on the small of her back, he led her to the door while nodding. "Too true, too true. Don't force the memories. Let them return naturally. But lets hope it's soon." His smile was strained, as she stared at him. She shuffled forward as he pushed her, pointing towards his assistant, he asked, "You remember Timothy, don't you? Go with him and he'll perform your treatment."

"Okay, thank you. I'll see you later then." With a small wave she followed Timothy.

Waving a little while longer, Doctor Adams watched her as she was directed around the corner. The smile fell from his face as he turned around and strode down the hall to another door. "Sorry to have kept you waiting, but it seems our patient is making progress, albeit slowly. Told me, somewhat begrudgingly that she had seen something, or rather someone's silver eyes. _I_ can't possibly think who she might have known with eyes like that, can you?" He smirked at himself.

Dresden looked at Adams with disdain. "Shut up you idiot. I don't care for your sense of humour. What I want to know is does she know? And how do you know if she hasn't held any information back. You did say she wasn't willing to part with what she had told you."

"I've been treating her for the last year; I think I would know if she was holding back." Adams didn't appreciate this man's accusations. He knew damned well when a patient wasn't telling him everything. But she had seemed a little off today. Normally she had no reservations about what she'd tell him. That stupid old codger must have done something to rattle her.

"You might have that confidence in yourself, but I don't. All my sources are proving to be inadequate. Bernard has proved to have caused more harm than good and it's unlikely the woman would be willing to talk to him in the future." He let out a disgusted sigh. All the people he had monitoring Carolyn Fry were proving to be completely useless, as was the woman herself.

"Somewhere in that pretty little head of hers she remembers him. But what I want is to know if she has any idea of where Riddick is!"

Adams sneered at the other man. "If she knew don't you think she would have tried to contact him by now?"

"Weren't you the one saying she doesn't remember? How the hell is she supposed to get in contact with someone SHE DOESN' T EVEN REMEMBER!" Dresden all but screamed, standing from his chair.

The doctor was ready to let loose when a sharp knock broke their gaze and both men looked towards the door.

"Enter." came the sharp command from Dresden.

A small skittish man threw himself into room, slamming the door closed. A little out of breath he saluted the captain. "Dresden, sir." Drawing in a deep breath to be heard clearly, he spat out the words, "We've found him. We've found Riddick."


	7. Don't get excited, just letting you know

Just a quick message to let you know I'm still alive.

Recently I've been told I have severe depression. I had it a few years back and thought I had beaten it but apparently I was just pushing it down rather than actually dealing with it. And now its come back to bite in the butt! :)

I've sought out the aid of a professional to help me and I'm fighting my way through this, but personal influences are adding to my struggle. I'm trying to eliminate all the negative influences but they're proving hard to ignore... but thats life to a degree. :)

I'm sorry that I've been slack in updating my story but I haven't felt in the right mind frame to continue at this point. But hopefully in with the new year I will be getting back to it. And thank you to everyone who's read it and even more so if you've enjoyed it..... even when I kept changing everything.

Hope you all have a wonderful and safe holiday season.


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